


Only Human

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex needs a hug, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, John is willing to give him that hug, Late at Night, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6206758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander sits by the windowsill sometimes. John tries to get him to go back to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Human

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea while watching Deadpool, actually. Huh.

There’s a hazy shape blocking the faint yellow glow of the streetlamps streaming through the window. Frowning, John rubs his eyes, trying to clear them to check that he’s not hallucinating. There’s someone there. He reaches out to the other side of the bed and finds the sheets cold and rumpled beside him. Yawning quietly, John pushes himself up onto his elbows.

“Alexander?” He calls softly.

The person at the window turns their head, and for a moment John can see the gleam of dark eyes reflecting the sickly light outside.

“Go back to sleep.” Alexander murmurs.

His voice is thick, as though he’s holding back tears.

John sits up further, until he’s properly upright.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing.” Alex’s voice is rougher this time.

“Alex, come back to bed.” 

“Just give me a minute.”

John frowns but doesn’t get up. He slides back down in bed, turning onto his side to face Alexander’s back. He’s turned to the window again.

Alex has no idea how long he’s been sitting at the window, staring out into the empty street, with his gaze just as vacant. He doesn’t know why and when he started crying, either. The tears just… came. He had felt safer crying there, where nobody could see him. He doesn’t like people seeing him cry, seeing him weak. He’s not meant to be weak.

He feels safe around John. Safe enough to let his guard down and let him in. But there’s still things he keeps to himself, moments where all he wants is to curl up and hide from everything and everyone, even the one person who can actually help him. He’s learnt to deal with things on his own, whether it was back in St. Croix where people had their own worries clouding their thoughts, or whether it was when he was being bounced around different care and foster homes where they never seemed to have enough time to address his issues. So he says nothing, because he knows his problems will be swept away, with a rushed “We’ll talk about it later” or “Chin up, kid, you’ll be okay”. 

Ten minutes later, John still isn’t asleep. He can’t sleep, not when he’s worrying about Alex.

“Come on. You’ll get cold.” He tries to persuade him.

“In a minute.” Alex mumbles again.

“You said in a minute ages ago.” John huffs.

He decides to take matters into his own hands and gets to his feet, walking over to the windowsill. He wraps his arms around Alex’s shoulders, drawing him closer. His skin is freezing to the touch, just like the glass he’s staring intensely out of. All John wants is to take Alexander back to bed and warm him up, to hold him close and share his heat.

“Please, Alexander. It’s late. You need your sleep.” John whispers.

“Soon. Promise.”

“You’re only human. You can’t stay up all night. Whatever’s bothering you, we’ll talk about it tomorrow morning, okay?”

Alexander doesn’t answer. 

John sighs and gives him a small pull, encouraging him to his feet. Silently, Alex complies, following John and falling into bed. 

John takes Alexander into his arms, warming him up. 

They’ll talk about it in the morning.


End file.
